Jake sighed, painfully aware of Callie on the other side of the yard, catching three horses to his every one. "Come on, now. All you have to do is put your head in this thing and then I'll lead you back home. What do you say?"

With a snort, the horse trotted away again.

"He says you're a pushover." Tucker grabbed the bridle from Jake, walked right up to Moe and bridled him, expertly avoiding his teeth when Moe snapped at him. "Stop it, Moe. You're just trying to scare him now." He glanced back as the sheriff pulled up the driveway. "By calling this in, you're going to have even more trouble selling."

"Don't know what else to do." Jake made sure to give Moe plenty of space. "It has to be stopped."

Tucker nodded and started to lead Moe away, but then he stopped. Kicked the dirt. "You know there's not many suspects, right? Other than us?"

"I'm hoping like hell there's someone else. A neighbor, a kid from town, someone."

"Yeah." Tucker stroked Moe's face, who snorted in pleasure, looking nice and friendly.

Jake just sighed.

"Look," Tucker said. "I know I'm a prick to you most of the time, but I'd never-I mean, I wouldn't..."

"I know."

Tucker nodded, looking so touchingly relieved, Jake actually stepped closer, with some old, burning desire to do something stupid, like touch him.

But Tucker led Moe away before he could.

Tucker didn't go far, just to the nearest phone. He did what he'd been meaning to do for five weeks now, and called his mother. He was shocked as hell when he actually got her on the first try.

Mary Ann wasn't usually readily available. When she was after a guy, she faded out of his life, only coming back into it-like a freight train-when things soured in her relationship. He'd accepted that as a child. He'd had to. From the age of five, she'd been all he'd had. He'd accepted a lot of things that he wondered about now.

"You caught me in the middle of a manicure," she said.

She didn't waste time with greetings, even though they hadn't spoken in a few months, so he didn't, either. "When Jake left, did he ever try to contact us?"

"What? My goodness." She laughed. "That was so long ago."

"Did he?"

"Oh, you know your brother, baby. He had other fish to fry. He rarely had time to call."

"You told me he never called. That he walked out the door when I was five and never called again."

"Listen to that awful static. We have a bad connection. I'll call you another time-"

"I want to know the truth."

She sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you, the truth is always overrated."

"Mom."

"Fine. The truth is he walked away from you. You know that."

"He came back when I needed him."

"Yes, so he could throw it in my face that I'd ruined you."

"You told me you had to beg him to come." Tucker rubbed his temples, trying to absorb it all. "That he only came at all because he had this ranch and needed another hand."

"I can't hear you....Gotta go-"

He stared at the phone when she disconnected him, knowing the truth, that Jake had spoken it, and that Tucker had been nothing but an ungrateful, spoiled bastard to him in return. He slammed the kitchen phone down, glad Amy couldn't see the violence in him now or he'd scare her to death.

He drew a deep breath and looked around him, out the window at the wide open space he loved, at the people who ran it. These people were his real family, Jake included. And nothing could take that from him.

That evening, Callie rode out on Sierra. It was an hour before sunset, and another storm brewed. Clouds swirled and danced above her, the sky churning like the blue flames the ranch was named for. Their novelist guests were back, happy and talking animatedly about their overnight adventure. Amy had fed them a meaty lasagna, and they were all getting ready for a big bonfire that evening. Except for Jake, who was right this minute walking his Realtor and a prospective buyer around the ranch.

Callie urged Sierra into a gallop. The sheriff had come by again. He was concerned, and so was Jake.

And so was she. Not that she believed she was in any real peril. No, her danger came from losing her heart. God. She was tough enough to handle this thing between her and Jake. And whatever jerk was messing with the ranch. She could handle anything but losing the only place she'd ever considered home.

And yet she was going to lose it. Tilting her head up, she took a deep breath and watched the sky change as she rode the trail. The clouds grumbled overhead, moving swiftly, violently. She lost herself in it for a long moment, then at the sound of a horse behind her, turned and watched Jake ride toward her on Molly. "I want to be alone," she said.

"Callie-" He broke off at an odd flash of light in the hills. He cocked his head, searching the horizon. "Someone's behind the rocks over there."

A sudden loud pop startled them both as the rock on the other side of them pinged as if it'd been shot- "Jesus. Get down!" Jake leapt off Molly, hauling Callie off Sierra before she could move, shoving her ahead of him. "Run for the rocks!"

"The horses-"

"Go!" He shoved her again and she ran. It was only about ten yards but it might as well have been a wide-open football field. Her skin prickled every step of the way, anticipating the burn of a bullet. She dove behind the rocks, ducking as another shot resounded over her head, raining dirt and rock down over her. She scooted over as much as she could, expecting Jake to dive in right on her heels.

He had the reins of both horses in his hands as he ran toward her, trying to rush without spooking them. But the next shot did just that, and Sierra reared up, ripping the reins from his hands, her hooves pawing at the air, inches from Jake's head.

"Jake!" Callie surged up to her knees, horrified as Sierra bumped into Molly, and then both horses were rearing as Jake fell backward to the ground. Callie ran out from behind the rock and threw herself between Jake and the horses, standing still and calm while her heart stuck her in her throat, crooning to both horses in a soft voice she knew would reach them.

"Callie, goddammit." Jake growled, struggling back to his feet.

"Hold on." She murmured to the horses again, sweating with each passing second, just waiting for the bite of a bullet in her flesh, but it didn't come. The moment Sierra's hooves hit the ground, Jake grabbed her reins, thrust them at Callie, then grabbed Molly's reins. They all moved around the rocks. They stood there, chests heaving in shock, staring at each other. Jake shoved Molly's reins at her. "Stay here."

"Where are you going?"

"To see who the hell's taking potshots at us."

"Jake, no."

But he was gone.

21.

Jake was not a tracker, at least not out here with the sun nearly gone and mostly blocked out by the dark, thickening clouds. The rocky canyons were wide open in front of him and utterly, eerily silent. Damn, what he'd give for his cell phone and an entire squad of cops to swarm the area.

Whoever had shot at them was gone now; he knew it. He studied the rock area where they'd heard the ping of the bullet, and discovered something interesting. From where the shooter had stood, the distance hadn't been that great, one hundred feet tops.

And yet they hadn't been hit. So the shooter had terrible aim...

Or he'd been trying to miss them.

Something shimmered on the ground and he picked it up. A tiny round metal ball. A BB.

Callie came around the rock. "What?"

He opened his hand and showed her.

"A BB?" She looked as baffled as he felt. "But a BB gun wouldn't have killed us."

"It'd have hurt like hell, but no, it wouldn't have killed us, or the horses."

Their gazes met, and she looked no less unnerved by the knowledge. "Who the hell...?" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It doesn't matter, it's working," she whispered. "I'm officially scared."

He shoved the BB in his pocket and reached for her. She moved right into his arms, her body fitting to his as if she'd been made for the spot. Burying his face in her hair, he gave himself the luxury of holding her for a long moment, while his heart gave one slow roll in his chest at what might have happened out there to her if she'd been alone. "We've got to get back."

"Oh my God, you're right. He might go there next." She grabbed her radio and called the ranch, warning them. Then she mounted Sierra. "Hurry, Jake."

She didn't have to tell him twice. What had seemed like such a beautiful spot only a moment ago, with the wide-open canyons and little else beneath a flaming darkening sky, now seemed too big, too wide open. The entire ride to the ranch, he imagined them both in someone's gun sights, and he rode just a little bit behind Callie, desperate to watch her back, to keep her safe, hating that it was entirely out of his control. He wasn't used to that, things being out of his control, and it was one hell of a long fifteen-minute ride, with his spine itching the whole way.

Two days later, the novelists left, thankfully none the wiser about the ranch's increasingly aggressive stalker. Jake knew their next guests were coming right on their heels, a family reunion, with sixteen members arriving from all over the country.

He wanted to cancel them, and even Callie had agreed, but unfortunately, more than half the guests had already begun their travel, so the decision had been made to let them come.

The sheriff and a few of his men had scoured the area where the shots had originated. They'd questioned all the ranch hands. They'd questioned their neighbors. They'd put out the word in town. No one knew anything.

In spite of that, Jake's agent called with an offer for the ranch from the New York millionaire, who'd decided she liked the idea of a tax break and a new lifestyle. She'd offered 90 percent of his asking price, and was willing to guarantee the employees one year of employment.

It was all Jake had wanted. He'd be stupid not to jump on it, and yet he hesitated.

It made no sense. He had a little over a week before he had to get back to San Diego to train recruits. His shoulder was so improved he wished he could get back to firefighting, but even "so improved" wasn't good enough. He knew he couldn't handle a hose, he couldn't climb a ladder with speed and efficiency, and he couldn't guarantee he could lift and carry a victim, much less his own gear for any length of time.

But that's not what really bothered him. He was learning to accept the fact that firefighting might be in his past, for the most part. What he was suddenly having trouble with was imagining leaving the Blue Flame. He liked to pretend that was because he worried about the ever-escalating danger, and leaving Callie to face it alone. Or that he'd started a new and different sort of relationship with Tucker, and that it was working for both of them.

But even he knew it was far more than that. He just didn't know what to do about it.

They had an overnight storm that left everything clear and glistening. The weather turned warm, almost hot. Stone came back, looking relaxed and much happier than he had when he'd left. And when their next guests arrived, the family members spent the first afternoon getting reacquainted with each other and handling the evening chores with gusto, falling in love with the puppies, two of which they claimed.

And late that night, when the guests retired to their rooms, Jake stood in the yard in the dark spring night, restless and unsettled.

"How are you holding up?"

He turned. Callie stood there looking at him. "Better now," he said, and she smiled.

But then it slowly faded. "You only have a week left," she said.

"I know."

She searched his gaze for a long moment, as if trying to make a decision. "You might not realize this, but there are still a few things you haven't experienced out here."

"Is that right?" Suddenly feeling a little less restless, certainly a lot less alone, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her close. "What's that?"

She hoisted the fishing poles she held in her hand.

He laughed. "That's definitely not what I had in mind."

"You have something against fishing?"

"Uh...not specifically."

"Okay then." She handed him a fishing pole. "Let's hit it."

He wanted to talk to her about the offer for the ranch, about how he felt about leaving, but he looked into her face and asked, "Where to?"

"Funny thing about fishing, we need water."

"You mean the river?"

"Well, I don't mean my shower."

"That's not a good idea."

"We're not going to get shot out there tonight, Jake. Look, I'm not going to be afraid and nervous and pissed off all the time. I want to live how I want to live, and so much is changing-" She pointed at him with the fishing pole when he opened his mouth. "I know, I can't stop change, but I sure as hell can be in charge of my own destiny. And tonight my destiny is fishing by moonlight, which I don't think is asking too much. So." She drew in a deep breath. "Yes or no?"

"Yes. To whatever you want."

"Now there's a dangerous promise." She led him past the hay barn and turned right, toward the first low rocky hill across the pasture.

"No horses?"

"I need to walk."

So they walked. The way was lit by the incredible sky, which felt so close and bright, Jake wanted to reach out and grab a star. Soon they came to the trail he'd taken on horseback many times now, so he knew exactly where the river curved alongside it, running parallel.

They walked side by side in the warm evening, their fingers brushing together. He took hers in his and smiled down at her. "You going to take advantage of me out here?"

She eyed him over. "I don't know. It's dirty and the ground is hard. There are bugs."

He laughed. "I haven't given you those complaints in a while now."